Here's Looking at You, Kid.
by Wendy Parkinson
Summary: Archer's promise comes back to haunt him.


From: "Wendy Parkinson"   
To: ;   
Subject: New Fic: 'Here's Looking at You, Kid' (PG) (1/1)  
Date: Wednesday, July 03, 2002 8:18 AM  
  
Title: Here's Looking at You, Kid  
Author: Wendy Parkinson  
Email: wendyparkinson@hotmail.com  
Category: Archer/T'pol  
Spoilers: Acquisition  
Rating: PG  
Content Warnings: none  
Summary: Archer's promise comes back to haunt him.  
Date: 3rd July 2002  
  
Disclaimer: Enterprise and its characters belong to Paramount. This fan  
fiction was created solely for entertainment and no money was made from it.  
Also, no copyright or trademark infringement was intended. Any similarity to  
real persons, living or dead, is coincidental.  
  
All feedback and constructive criticism will be greatly appreciated. No  
flames please.  
  
copyright Wendy Parkinson July 2002  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
  
HERE'S LOOKING AT YOU, KID  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
As soon as the words were out of my mouth I regretted them. "I'll make it up  
to you." Honestly, what an illogical thing to say to a Vulcan! It was so  
unlike the way we usually talk to each other. But she was being so...  
playful. Teasing me with almost a hint of a smile. Flirting.  
  
God, that was it. She was flirting with me and my hormones kicked in before  
my brain and blurted out those words. Now I was sure they were going to come  
back to haunt me.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
We sat round the table in my dining room, eating our dinner in companionable  
silence. Trip had just asked for seconds of the lasagne, even though he  
wasn't fond of Italian food, making some excuse about running round in his  
underwear all day long giving him a fearsome appetite. I noticed him glance  
at T'Pol as he spoke, trying to get the customary rise out of her but for  
once she seemed lost in thought and immune to his 'volatile behaviour'.  
  
She put down her knife and fork and looked solemnly at me. "Captain," she  
said in that measured, even voice of hers. "Earlier you said you would 'make  
it up to me'. In the absence of the promised gold bars, I wish to know what  
form this recompense will take."  
  
Trip was so taken aback he almost sprayed me with tomato sauce but,  
fortunately for me, managed to get himself under enough control to limit his  
reaction to a coughing fit into his napkin. "Sounds like you owe the lady  
big time, Cap'n," he spluttered. "What did you do?" he asked as an  
afterthought, grinning at me.  
  
"He insulted me," T'Pol stated baldly.  
  
I wasn't having that. "I was playing a part, Sub-commander. I was trying to  
convince the guy you weren't worth taking. Would you sooner have been sold  
into slavery?"  
  
She just looked at me and blinked. Slowly. I find that really annoying. I  
can hardly reprimand her for blinking at me offensively, can I? But she  
conveys more insubordination and defiance in those blinks than ten pages of  
bad language. Shame there's nothing in the command manuals about dealing  
with Vulcan eye warfare.  
  
I'm ashamed to say I took my frustration out on Trip. "I don't suppose  
you've heard what Hoshi's been saying about her 'husband', have you,  
Commander?"  
  
That stopped him dead in his tracks. "What?" he spluttered.  
  
"She's been telling everyone she wouldn't marry you even if you were the  
last man in the galaxy," I said with relish. I have to admit his face was a  
picture. The biter bit, as they say.  
  
"Even if you do have a bodacious bod," added the Sub-commander, as she  
deftly speared a piece of celery.  
  
We both stared at her openmouthed. I felt my eyebrows rising towards my hair  
at my second in command's comment. Sometimes I wish I wasn't bothered by  
pesky emotions like embarrassment and worry about what other folks think of  
me.  
  
As usual, she was totally unperturbed by our reaction. "I am merely  
repeating what I've heard in the context of 'girl talk'," she said calmly.  
"You are in excellent physical condition, Commander, that is a matter of  
fact. So I am merely stating the obvious."  
  
Trip turned a peculiar shade of beet-red and I was hard pushed not to laugh  
at my friend's discomfort but if he didn't want women to look then why did  
he spend so much time in the gym? Then I had an unpleasant thought. What had  
the female members of the crew been saying about me?  
  
I had to give Trip credit for the speed at which he recovered. "So when do  
you indulge in 'girl talk', Sub-commander?"  
  
A bizarre image popped into my mind of T'Pol in pyjamas sitting on her cabin  
floor talking to Hoshi, a giant bowl of popcorn between them. T'pol was  
tucking in with a knife and fork.  
  
"I have had several interesting conversations with Ensigns Sato and Cutler,"  
she said. "Their insights into male behaviour are most enlightening."  
  
"I'll bet," murmured Trip, apparently still smarting over his 'wife's'  
rejection.  
  
"I don't think I want to know," I said quickly, trying to deflect her from  
saying anything that was likely to destroy my heartfelt belief in the  
mystique of command.  
  
"Their comments mainly centered on the observation that 'boys will be  
boys'," she continued, completely ignoring my previous comment. "And that if  
you want something doing properly, ask a woman."  
  
"I'm not going to dignify that with an answer," drawled Trip. "But I think I  
may be asking Hoshi for a divorce...."  
  
I laughed, then realised that T'Pol had her eyes fixed on me. She tilted her  
head slightly, as if waiting for me to speak. I swallowed hard. She was  
waiting for an answer to her original question, wasn't she? "What would you  
like me to do to make it up to you, Sub-commander? What would be appropriate  
in your opinion?"  
  
She blinked again, then said slowly, her eyes never leaving mine. "Vulcans  
do not engage in this practice, therefore I will comply with the human  
customs for these circumstances."  
  
"Sounds like dinner and a movie, Cap'n," interrupted Trip cheerfully.  
  
I could have throttled him. If it wasn't for the fact that he's a damn good  
engineer, he'd have been cleaning the nacelle housings for the next  
millennium. I couldn't take my second in command on a date. What would the  
rest of the crew say? And I don't think of her like that. She's a Vulcan,  
for God's sake.  
  
She just sat there, waiting for me to speak. I took the coward's way out.  
"What do you think, T'Pol?"  
  
"I accept. I understand 'Casablanca' is showing tomorrow night. I will meet  
you there at seven o'clock, then we will have dinner." She glanced round at  
the dining room. "Here would be an appropriate location, I believe."  
  
"Don't worry, Cap'n, I'll make myself scarce," said Trip trying, and in my  
opinion, failing, to look sincere.  
  
"Yeah," I muttered. To be honest, I was pretty stunned. I'd just been  
railroaded into taking my second in command on a date by her and my chief  
engineer. I had a fleeting thought that if they wanted to, they could  
probably take over the ship and have me confined for being incapable of  
command.  
  
I noticed a smile twitching at Trip's lips. Shooting him a ferocious glare I  
muttered, "I'll deal with you later..."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
I stood patiently outside the makeshift cinema, waiting for my 'date'. Some  
of the crew gave me knowing looks and smiles as they passed me on the way  
into the room. Trip had to have the biggest mouth this side of the quadrant.  
When I'd tackled him about it earlier, all he'd said was, "Just letting folk  
share in your joy, Cap'n. Just letting folk share..." The nacelle housings  
were too good for him.  
  
"Good evening, sir," said Malcolm as he stopped next to me. "You haven't  
seen Hoshi, have you?"  
  
"No, Malcolm. Are you meeting her here?"  
  
He nodded and smiled. "Yes." There was a pause, then he added, "Are you  
waiting for someone, sir?"  
  
I shot him a look. I thought *everyone* knew by now. Was he winding me up?  
He looked sincere enough, but with Malcolm it was sometimes difficult to  
tell. "Yeah. Sub-commander T'Pol."  
  
He nodded again and clasped his hands behind his back, apparently at a loss  
on how to respond to my admission. We stood side by side in silence, united  
in our nervousness. Then I saw the top of her head through the crowd. Her  
dark brown hair caught the light and she moved languidly, just as she always  
did. When she got closer, the crowd parted and I got my first proper view of  
her. I know my jaw dropped. "As we'd say back home, 'she scrubs up nicely',  
sir," said Malcolm quietly, as he stared at T'Pol.  
  
She was wearing a calf length fitted dress in a beautiful deep blue that  
accentuated her figure and made her look totally feminine. Her hair looked  
slightly different somehow, as did her make-up. I think the word I'm looking  
for is softer. Yes, she looked softer, more feminine, more of a woman than  
the super-efficient science officer I was used to. I realised my heart was  
starting to pound in my ears and my mouth felt uncomfortably dry.  
  
"Captain," she said, as she got close enough for me to hear her.  
  
"Call me Jonathan," I said quietly. "We're both off duty. May I call you  
T'Pol?"  
  
She nodded her assent as Hoshi joined our little group. "Doesn't she look  
great?" said my communications officer enthusiastically. "Liz and I helped  
with the hair and make-up."  
  
"And a great job you did too," said Malcolm, eliciting a small blush from  
Hoshi. "Shall we go in? I think the film's about to start."  
  
Hoshi nodded and, taking the armoury officer's hand, led him into the  
makeshift cinema.  
  
Suddenly alone with T'Pol, I found myself unsure what to say. "You look  
great," I said.  
  
She seemed uncomfortable at the compliment and murmured, "I asked Ensigns  
Sato and Cutler for advice on my appearance. They were most helpful but  
insisted I should not wear my uniform tonight. Do you think this outfit  
appropriate? I have noticed many crew members staring at me."  
  
I smiled. "That's because you look beautiful. Your outfit is perfect." I  
held my arm out for her. "Join me?" She linked her arm with mine and we went  
in.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
'Casablanca' is my Mom's favourite movie and I can just about recite the  
dialogue off by heart, so when we'd taken our seats near the back of the  
room and the movie began, I found myself paying more attention to T'pol's  
reactions than to the screen. She stared intently at the flickering black  
and white images, her face betraying no hint of emotion until right at the  
end when Rick told Ilse to leave with Lazlo. T'pol opened her mouth  
slightly, registering a small 'o' of shock. That part always gets to me too;  
I've sometimes wondered if I could be that noble.... could I choose between  
the woman I loved and the greater good?  
  
I watched the last few minutes of the movie, then murmured, "I think this  
could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship," along with Rick. That has  
to be my favourite line of the whole movie. I glanced across at T'pol and  
found her looking at me curiously. Oh great, now she thinks I talk to  
myself. I guess that'll be another point to notch up to human illogicality.  
I was vaguely aware of the credits starting to roll and all around us people  
beginning to move but my eyes were locked to T'pol's and I found I just  
couldn't look away. They were such a beautiful shade of brown....  
  
Her lips twitched in the merest suggestion of a smile and she said quietly,  
"Shall we go to dinner, Jonathan?" A small shiver ran through me when she  
said my name; a pleasant sensation that at that moment I didn't care to  
analyse. I nodded my agreement and led her to my dining room.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
We ate a vegetable stir fry and noodles, followed by apple pie and ice  
cream. I'd ordered vegetarian for both of us because I couldn't face that  
distasteful, wrinkled-nose look she gets when she watches us primitive  
humans tuck into a juicy steak. And I have to admit, committed carnivore  
that I am, for once I didn't mind there not being meat on the menu.  
  
Our conversation was mainly about the movie. It turned out that T'pol was  
very impressed by the logical behaviour displayed by Rick and Ilse.  
"Logical?" I protested. "Noble, self-sacrificing, heartbreaking maybe... but  
'logical'? No. 'Logical' makes it sound cold and emotionless. Their actions  
were anything but that."  
  
"It is merely a Vulcan perspective, Jonathan. Do you see me as cold and  
emotionless?" She raised an eyebrow slightly to emphasise her question.  
  
"What?..." That took me by surprise. Did I perceive her as cold? I  
hesitated. That was how I saw Vulcans but T'pol...? "No, I don't," I replied  
honestly. "I did at first, but not now. I see you as calm and rational, the  
voice of reason on the bridge. My totally reliable second-in-command." I  
smiled and was gratified to get that almost half-smile in return.  
  
"Thank you. I shall take that as a compliment, Jonathan."  
  
It was then that the apple pie arrived. I was amazed to see her tuck in with  
enthusiasm. She looked up from her food, apparently aware of me watching  
her. She raised the inevitable eyebrow in query. "Apple pie doesn't seem a  
very Vulcan-like food," I explained.  
  
She put her fork down for a moment. "Commander Tucker introduced me to the  
concept of desserts. I found his preferred selection, pecan pie, pleasing,  
and have, on occasions, tried others." She took another forkful of pie and  
passed it between those gorgeously full lips. I watched, transfixed, then  
felt a small twinge of something when I thought of her discovering desserts  
with Trip. Of course, I wasn't jealous; it had to be indigestion caused by  
eating more vegetables than I was used to... didn't it?  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
We stopped outside her quarters and she turned to face me, her eyes darting  
quickly from side to side, a sign I've come to recognise as her version of  
nervousness. After a few moments, her eyes settled on mine and she murmured,  
"Thank you, Jonathan. The evening has been most.... enjoyable."  
  
I looked into those brown eyes and didn't see my Vulcan science officer, I  
saw a beautiful woman I'd spent a surprisingly fun evening with.  
  
It was then I took leave of my senses. I leant down and kissed her gently on  
the lips. My rational mind screamed that this was quite possibly the  
stupidest thing I'd ever done, even worse than that poker game Trip reminds  
me of now and again. I'd just kissed a woman who didn't feel emotion and was  
several times stronger than me. But, by God, it felt good. Her lips were  
soft and warmer than a human's. She didn't respond to me but she didn't pull  
away either. Hell, Vulcans probably consider kissing offensive; I know they  
don't like to be touched.  
  
When I pulled back, she looked at me, shock registering on her normally  
serene features. It felt like everything was in slow motion. I saw her  
breathe in. Was she going to tell me how illogical I was, or possibly slap  
my face? Perhaps she was going to go for that neck pinch thing she does  
sometimes. I've often wondered if that hurts.  
  
But after studying my face intently, she simply raised an eyebrow and said  
quietly, "That was enjoyable too, Jonathan. Good night."  
  
She accessed her door control and let herself into her quarters without  
another word. I was left standing in the corridor staring at her closed  
door.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
  
Of all the starships, in all the systems, in all the quadrants, she had to  
walk onto mine....  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 


End file.
